Training Days
by Celtictraveller
Summary: The book gave us the initiates' experience of training. This is Four's experience of training Tris as she enters stage two, and he begins to deal with his feelings with her. If there's any interest may post further chapters. Rated T for potential future chapters! Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent or any of the characters.**

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**Thanks to all who reviewed 'Resolution'. This is for those who wanted more from Four's POV.**

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Staring at a screen all day without losing focus is a kind of endurance that Dauntless doesn't train for, which might be why Eric was more than happy to leave the grunt work of the second stage of training to me. You'd think with his obvious enjoyment of other people's pain he would want to be here, but there's no glamour in it – no chance to intimidate the initiates with the promise of pain. Sure, they would experience fear – some of them real terror – but apparently it's not the same when he doesn't get to inflict it personally.

I shut the door behind Al – some of the initiates command respect but every encounter with Al increases my disgust. He has power and strength but is completely gutless. I understand his reluctance to use his power against those who are weaker, his reluctance to become cruel – a bully – but rather than find a way to use his power well, he has made himself weak. He is too much of a coward to face his own dark side – there is no place in Dauntless for him. He should be gone by now and I can't believe that we've lost someone like Edward and still have this pathetic specimen. I resent every moment I have to spend training him, every investment in him that increases his chance of becoming Dauntless. Sometimes I wonder how I became so hard – and that's what really scares me – that I might become a man with no regard for other people's pain. Then I opened the door into the corridor and saw her there, and realised again that I did care. And that scared me too if I was honest. Scared me because my choices weren't so simple anymore. Tris sat in the corridor – I'd been putting off dealing with her simulation all day, but I needed to do it. I wanted to postpone exposing her to this, but seeing her nervousness I realised I was just prolonging the agony for her.

She rose when I called her, and deftly dodged Drew's childish attempt to trip her –_ what an ass_. I followed her back into the simulation room, and had to halt abruptly as she backed up towards the door again. I didn't need the software to sense her unease – I could feel the trembling in her whole frame as she pressed against my chest - but I'm wondering where it comes from. She's so small, and I'm amazed again that she has managed to survive the physical challenge of the first stage. The only time that she could have seen equipment like this is at her aptitude test, and I've never heard of anyone being frightened by it. Did something happen during her test? I don't ask her though, simply instruct her to sit as I guide her towards the chair. She stalls again and avoids sitting.

'What's the simulation?' she asks me. Her anxiety causes her voice to shake. So – was it the equipment that freaked her out, or the test simulation? I make a mental note to check the footage from her test.

'Ever hear the phrase "face your fears"? We're taking that literally.' I watch her while I explain the process to her, as she tries to get her fear under control. All the initiates are nervous at this stage, but she's seriously rattled. She succeeds enough to finally get into the chair.

'Do you ever administer the aptitude tests?' she asks. Strange question - so something did happen at her test. I don't have anything to do with the tests, but I'm going to make a point of finding out who administered hers. One advantage of working in the control room – I can access almost any information from there.

'No, I avoid Stiffs as much as possible.' Curiosity seems to overcome some of her nervousness.

'Why?'

'Do you ask me that because you think I'll actually answer?' The habit of privacy is life-long and hard to break. Besides, I haven't worked out how to behave around her yet. Every time I see her my feeling for her get that bit stronger, and that bit more confusing. I want to get out of Dauntless and all that it's becoming, but she's trying with all her strength to get in. I don't want to commit myself to something and then face the pain of losing it – losing her. I don't want to compromise her choices, and wonder when I became so sure of myself that I think that my decisions would affect her in the slightest. Most of all I know I can't put her in any danger, and while I want to keep her close, perhaps remaining distant from the guy who will soon become a Faction deserter is safer path for her.

'Why do you say vague things if you don't want to be asked about them?' I smile inwardly. Sometimes she almost visibly recoils from me as though I terrify her, and then she gives up cheek to me. I might scare her, but she's not going to let me beat her down. Good girl! I still don't answer her though, and at least a part of that is my own way of coping with stage two. Eric might get off on it, but I don't derive any pleasure from seeing people reduced to wreckage by their fears. I can't afford empathy in this room – no decent trainer can – and keeping my distance is a way of remaining functional.

I lift the syringe prepared earlier, and brush her hair away from the injection site on her neck. Her hair is soft, like a silk ribbon, and I linger a little too long, letting my fingers brush the soft skin of her neck. Immediately her tension returns, and I feel like a creep, trying to surreptitiously touch someone who clearly finds me repellent.

I explain how the serum works, and inject it slowly into her neck. I want to tell her that I don't want her to be frightened. That's what stage two is about. I want to tell her that I'm trying to get her to the place where her fears can't control or limit her. I want to tell her that it's about freedom. In the end all I can do before the simulation begins is hold her face between my hands and whisper to her as gently as I can.

'Be brave, Tris. The first time is always the hardest.' Her eyes hold mine for a moment, and then she goes under.

I turn to the computer screen and connect the wires that will allow me to see what she's experiencing. I watch as the anxiety becomes panic, as the black birds peck and claw at her. Then I don't need to see the screen to understand her fear as she screams. I turn to look at her. Her back is arched and stiff, her fingers bone white as they grip the arms of the chair. She screams again and her face contorts in pain as the tears begin to pour down her face.

I know that she's in no actual danger, that it's quite literally all in her mind, but I also know that the terror is real. I've experienced real threat, and I've experienced the terror of the simulation and it's deeply traumatic. Not for the first time today I want to put a stop to the horror that I'm subjecting the initiates to, but I know that I can't. But, unlike any of the other times, I want to gather her up, hold her close until the pain and the fear subside, and promise that I'll never let anything hurt her again.

Suddenly she relaxes. The change is so sudden I wonder if she's alright. I turn to the screen and I see her stretched out on the grass. The crows are still pecking and clawing at her, but she's no longer trying to fight them off. I think at first that she's given in – just surrendered to their relentless attack - and then I realise that she's attempting to relax. I can see the tension disappear from her limbs. I check her vitals at the bottom of the screen. Both her pulse and her respiration rate are steadily declining towards normal. I can't believe it – it's too soon. It's almost as though she knew how to stop the simulation, but that's impossible. She couldn't possibly even be aware that it's not real. Unless of course, she did. Unless she's Divergent.

Immediately I push the thought out of my mind. It's incredibly rare – so rare that most people think it's a myth. I look at the screen again. Her vitals are almost normal. My eyes flick to the clock – two minutes fifty. Wow. I'm definitely going to check her aptitude result.

Suddenly she's out of the simulation. The clock stops at three minutes. Immediately her arms begin to flail, fending of the birds that are still there in her mind. She becomes aware of her surroundings and curls into a ball, hugging her knees moaning softly. I reach out to her and she recoils violently.

'Don't touch me.' I can't help feeling hurt – rejected. I want to comfort her but I'm not exactly experienced at dealing with distressed females. I gently push her hair back from her face.

'Tris.' She doesn't respond. 'Tris, I'm going to take you back to the dorms, okay?'

'No!' I can see the panic building again. Panic this time about being weak in front of the others, and I remember that she's just witnessed the strongest of them stabbed in the eye b1y a fellow initiate. She must be terrified to draw attention to herself. If Edward couldn't beat them what chance would she have, and they'd already singled her out for special treatment before now.

I pull her out of the chair and propel her towards the door, and we head back to the dorms. She's silent, seemingly lost in her own thoughts and I don't know how to bridge the silence – or even know if I should. When we're nearly there she pulls away from me again.

'Why did you do that to me? What was the point of that, huh?' The accusation hurts, but I get it. 'I wasn't aware that when I chose Dauntless I was signing up for weeks of torture!'

'Did you think overcoming cowardice would be easy?' I try to remain clam, but it just makes her angry. I don't say anything, just let her vent. Suddenly the fight goes out of her and she begins to cry. She seems totally drained.

'I want to go home,' she says. She seems totally drained by her experience, and I don't have any comfort to offer her, but maybe I can give her a reason.

'Learning to think in the midst of fear is a lesson that everyone, even your Stiff family, needs to learn. That's what we're trying to teach you. If you can't learn it, you'll need to get the hell out of here because we won't want you.' I hate myself for coming down hard on her, but I know that when I provoke her that she fights back. And I need her to be a fighter. Her eyes are shiny with new tears.

'I'm _trying._ But I failed. I'm failing.' Her lip trembles, and I realise she has no idea what she's achieved – how could she have.

'How long do you think you spent in that hallucination, Tris?' I ask.

'I don't know – a half hour?'

'Three minutes. You got out three times faster than the other the initiates. Whatever you are' - _Divergent? – _'you're not a failure.'

'Three minutes.' A watery smile steals its way onto her lips, and I can't help but smile back.

'Tomorrow you'll be better at this, you'll see.' I want to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, but settle for guiding her again towards the dormitory. In their own way the fear simulations are physically demanding; the aftermath of the adrenalin rush is exhausting, and she needs to rest. She'd have more of the same to face in the coming days.

'Tomorrow?' she asks. I don't answer, just try to gently steer her. 'What was your first hallucination?' She steals a glance at me.

'It's not so much a "what" as a "who." It's not important.'

'And are you over that fear now?'

'Not yet.' Even thinking about it starts to make my palms sweat, and I hate that he still has that power over me. 'I may never be.' I'm conscious that I still have two more initiates sitting waiting in the corridor, but with her record breaking time I've got a few minutes to spare before anyone really misses me. I lean against the wall and look at her. Even with her red, puffy eyes, she's still lovely to me.

'So they don't go away?' she asks. I'm not sure if she's interested in me, or if she's taking in information that will help her through initiation. Either way, she's getting over the shock of her first simulation, and I'm glad to see the colour returning to her cheeks.

'Sometimes they do. And sometimes new fears replace them' I realise this is my chance to say what I wanted to say before she went under. That I have a chance to help her prepare for tomorrow.

'But becoming fearless isn't the point. Learning how to control your fear, how to be free from it – that's the point.' She takes the information in.

'Anyway,' I continue, 'your fears are rarely what they appear – I mean, are you really afraid of crows?' I smile at her, trying to lighten the conversation a bit. 'I mean, when you see one, do you run away screaming?'

'No I guess not.' She moves closer and leans against the wall beside me. She leans her head to one side and all I can think is how cute she is. It's all the more entrancing that she has absolutely no idea. She regards me carefully, and I hope my face isn't becoming as flushed as it feels.

'So what am I really afraid of?' Her eyes are so different from the fear filled orbs of a few minutes ago, and she looks at me with total trust.

'I don't know – only you can know.' She takes it in and nods slowly.

'I didn't know becoming Dauntless would be this difficult.' I am surprised at her openness – although I always find it surprising in others. Not everyone is as reticent as I am.

Suddenly the loneliness of the past few years is just too much. There are so many questions, fears, anxieties in my mind, and I've kept it to myself for far too long. I have friends here, but I've never shared any of my concerns with them. The need to trust someone becomes overwhelming, and I find myself openly criticising the faction leadership, and their policy changes. This is dangerous talk, but something about her, something about this tiny girl, makes me feel safe. I don't know why, but I trust Tris.

She listens, and asks a few questions, but seems to accept what I say as truth. That in itself is a surprise. This is a Stiff who chose to turn her back on her faction. They always say the transfers are more zealous – I mean look at Eric – and her acceptance of her new faction's shortcomings means that she was more conflicted about her choice that I realised, or she is smart enough to already be asking her own questions. Either way, it doesn't cross my mind that she'll betray this confidence.

She just takes a deep breath, tries to fix her hair and prepares to enter the dorm. 'Do I look like I've been crying?'

I lean towards her, looking at her swollen eyes and pale complexion, with two spots of rising colour on her cheeks. She looks completely done in but all I can think is how much I want to kiss her. I resist the temptation to say_ you look adorable, _and settle for telling her seriously 'No, Tris. You look as tough as nails.'

She offers a smile and turns away into the dormitory, and I lean against the wall again, savouring the sensation of her nearness. With real reluctance I walk back to the simulation room, and call Drew. My hearts not in it though. All I can think of is her exquisite face just inches from mine. I swear, next time I get that close to her, I'm definitely going to kiss her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent or any of the characters.**

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**Thanks to all the encouragement you've given me from Chapter 1. This follows right after day one of Tris Stage Two training. Four begins to investigate when Tris's test performance surpasses all 'Resolution' I covered the incident when Tris encounters a drunk Four, so I've just skimmed over it here. **

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Light seared my eyes and I quickly closed them. The dull throbbing in my head became an insistent hammering. I felt like I'd just done two straight shifts in the training ring. I groaned. How much did I drink last night? I couldn't remember ever feeling this hung over. Not that I was a big drinker – there hadn't been much opportunity in Abnegation.

I pulled myself into a sitting position. I had a crick in my neck and I felt my stomach rebel, and waited a few moments for it to settle. I needed to pull myself together – another long day today, and I _really _needed to focus – starting with deciding what to do about Tris.

After I'd taken her back to her dorm following her first fear scenario, I'd returned to the Testing Room to complete the first day's testing. I quickly finished up with Drew and Uriah – or as quickly as their performance allowed - Uriah getting through the scenario twice as fast as the transfer, but still nowhere near Tris's time. I went through the motions with them as they experienced their first fear scenarios, but my mind was full of Tris and her remarkable performance. Pride and anxiety welled up in me - maybe she was _too_ remarkable.

I felt a little guilty – I knew Zeke was worried about his brother, and I had barely registered Uriah's performance. These days the trainers didn't really need to monitor the individual experience of initiates in their fear landscapes – the time logged was all that was considered for entry to the final stage. It hadn't always been like that though, and where two candidates had a comparable time, other factors were considered – had they defeated their fear, or controlled their reactions? How had they been affected afterwards, and for how long? I'd already had some conversations with Max last year about restoring some of the subtlety of the testing process. A real test would have been to take them from the simulation, and then back into combat or target practice, and see how they performed with adrenalin still flooding their systems. But for now, all that mattered to the Dauntless leadership was the time, and so I'd paid little attention to the details of the last two initiates' scenarios.

I was more concerned with Tris – and my suspicions about how she'd handled the simulation. Actually, that was at the core of my anxiety – that she'd _handled_ the simulation, rather than just reacted to it. I felt a pang of concern when I remembered her distress through yesterday's scenario. She had looked so tiny in the chair. Part of me wanted to keep her from hurt – make sure she never had to face fear like that in the real world. For the most part though I felt proud of her. Her seemingly fragile frame housed a resilience absent in many of her more powerful peers. She was strong, and I was glad. It didn't stop me from brushing her hair from her face though, as she twisted and strained in the grip of the serum, or giving her my hand to grip as she screamed in terror.

From the moment I'd left her all I could think about was pulling up the results of her aptitude tests. I checked the time – it was still early – I could make a start before breakfast – not that I could face food at the moment anyway.

I'd fallen into bed without closing the blinds in my apartment, and now the early morning sunlight poured relentlessly through the windows. I cautiously stood up and after the nausea had abated I pulled the blinds part-way down. There was enough light to see by, but the pounding in my head subsided to a tolerable level. I began to strip off the clothes I had slept in, folding them neatly into a laundry hamper. Dauntless I may be, but the Stiff in me wasn't entirely gone either. I gratefully stepped into the shower, and the warm water and citrus scent of soap began to revive me. I was stiff from sleeping in an awkward position, and I bent my head forward, feeling the muscles relax as the powerful jet of water massaged my neck and shoulders. Finally, as the hot water ran out I turned my face upward into the chilly spray for at least a minute hoping it would be enough to finish the job of waking me up. I wrapped a towel around me while I slowly drank a glass of water. I was feeling better, but not enough to trust that my stomach still wouldn't rebel.

I threw on clean clothes, almost identical to the ones I had removed a few minutes earlier, and headed for the Control Room. I could review Tris's footage from yesterday in the Testing Room, but I could only check her aptitude results from there. I had been trying to do that last night when I'd been disturbed. Thankfully, it had been Zeke, not Eric, who had been looking for me, but it brought home the need for caution. If Tris managed to avoid drawing attention to herself during this stage of training, I didn't want to be the one that blew it by being caught scrutinising her performance.

I'd had the Control Room to myself last night. They were short-staffed while I was involved in training the initiates. It had been meal time, so the operator would be grabbing dinner and the surveillance feeds were all recorded anyway, so he could review them later. I'd reckoned on having about a half hour before the operator came back. Before checking Tris's tests, I couldn't resist taking advantage of the privacy, and selected the camera feed from the dorms – I'd needed to know how she was doing. I'd just pulled up the image onto the central screen when Zeke came in and flopped onto the seat beside me.

'So this is where you're hiding. Didn't know you were on the roster for a shift tonight,' he said cheerfully. 'I though the trainers had someone covering their work during initiation – or has Eric changed that as well?'

'No – I'm not pulling a shift.' I replied, I'm just checking in on the newbies – some of them were pretty freaked out.' I glanced at the screen, thankful that the footage backed me up. Al was curled in a ball, and eyeliner smudged Molly's face. Tris had just moved out of shot.

'Oh yeah – it's the start of Stage Two. No wonder Uriah's been hyper – well more than usual. I didn't have you down for the mother hen type, Four.'

I smiled grimly at him. 'I'm not – but maybe you should be. Uriah found it just as rough as the rest of them.'

'Well, I gave him all the help I could for Stage One, but I warned him – you can't prepare for Stage Two. I don't like it, but he'll learn. He'll have to.' Some of the bravado left his voice. 'Is he doing alright though? I mean, will he get through?

I shrugged. 'He's making the cut so far, but there's no telling what the fear landscapes will throw up. I don't think he needs to worry though – today was just the start, but already I've got a good idea of who's struggling, and it's not your brother.'

Relief had washed over Zeke's face. 'So you really are watching over them. And here I was thinking you just had the hots for the little Stiff girl,' Zeke laughed. I flinched inwardly at his words. I knew he was kidding, but I was bothered at how near the mark he was. 'So, do you want company, or do you fancy getting a couple of beers?'

I couldn't check up on Tris with Zeke watching my every move. I was pretty sure that I could trust him, but I hadn't needed to put it to the test yet, and I was reluctant to do so until there was no choice. I didn't think he would rat me out, but I couldn't shake off the sense that there was something going on – something dangerous - and I didn't want to expose the people I cared about – not Zeke and, I could admit this to myself now, not Tris either.

Suddenly I'd felt the need for simple friendship. It was something I had only found since becoming Dauntless – in Abnegation I'd carried too many secrets to ever have an open relationship. I realised that with my decision to leave the Faction, I'd already begun to leave my friends - drawing back from them, creating distance. But it had been a long day – a very long day - I was tired, and the thought of blowing off some steam with the guys was very appealing.

'Trust me, there's a lot I would rather be looking at in my spare time than this sorry lot.' I jerked my thumb at the screens. 'Were we ever this dismal during our initiation?' Zeke laughed.

'God, I hope not'

'Couple of beers it is,' I decided.

Zeke grinned. 'I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charm. Come on, the rest of the guys are waiting for us.'

So I'd headed to the bar, and was well into my third bottle of beer before I realised I'd not eaten since breakfast. Which would explain why I'd already had a buzz going on. I'd just about managed to put Tris out of my mind, genuinely enjoying the banter and the company, when I saw her.

Images from the night before flashed into my mind – Tris, the tattoo, telling her how good she looked - and I cringed. I remember how blasé I'd felt at the time, but the flashbacks were telling me that I wasn't so much witty and urbane as lecherous and unbearable. She must think I'm a total jerk – and right then I realised how important her opinion was. I couldn't actively chase her, couldn't even let her know I liked her, but I didn't need to go out of my way to repel her either. We had no future, not if I was leaving, but there was a growing part of me that wanted her to think well of me – maybe even miss me when I'd gone. The memory of her last night flashed into my mind, and once again I could feel her nearness – the heat and scent of her. In my mind's eye I traced again the birds tattooed on her collar, drawing my eyes to her breasts, reminding me that she wasn't a child, despite her small stature. My fingers twitched with the muscle memory of the need to trace the flight of those birds, and I could feel desire beginning to stir.

I gave myself a shake and with an effort brought my mind back to the present. One good thing from last night's encounter - I'd seen for myself how she'd recovered and I was impressed at her recovery. I arrived at the Control Room just as Ted was heading out for breakfast. 'Hi Four. What's up – missing us?'

'Just can't keep away. Take your time, Ted. I'll cover things here until you get back. I've got an hour before testing starts again.'

'Thanks, Four. I won't be long.' Ted headed out, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

I'd worked out a scheme to cover my tracks in case anyone was monitoring my movements on the systems. I waited until the door was fully closed, and then began to check the Aptitude Test results for all the transfers. If anyone asked I could say I was researching trends in how transfers from different Factions fared compared to the Dauntless born. I worked through them in alphabetical order – which was a reasonable enough approach if I was questioned about it. I worked quickly through the others and finally pulled up Tris's result – she was logged as Abnegation. I don't know what I expected – but that wasn't it. I searched for her test footage, but it hadn't been logged. I checked out the others and had no trouble accessing it. So, it was just Tris who didn't have any footage – my apprehension increased. I pulled up the test records again. Tori had logged the result, but not the footage. I examined the files of the other tests Tori had administered – all of them had footage logged. So, the problem wasn't with the tester, just Tris. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. There was something wrong with her Test, and that could only be one thing - _Divergent._ Nothing I had expected to find could have chilled me more than the disturbing absence of data. Or the fact that at least one other person suspected enough to cover Tris's tracks. At least Tori had erased the evidence, and not reported it. But why? Divergence wasn't easy to recognise though, and I wondered what Tori had seen in Tris's test. There was something about Tori, some story that I had heard that was tugging at my memory, but I couldn't bring it to mind. It would come to me.

I glanced at the time. Ted was due to return. I carefully shut down the archived files, and returned the screens to the feed that had been displayed when I arrived.

I left the Control Room and swung by the dining hall to grab a muffin and a coffee, and headed for the Testing Room. I powered up the computer, and prepared the serum for today's tests. I couldn't afford to just go through the motions today; the tests needed my full attention. I had to know for sure whether Tris really was different from the others, and a part of me hoped she would log a slower time today. With my stomach churning I opened the door into the corridor, and a crowd of haggard faced turned to look at me. Not one of the initiates looked as they had slept. I took a breath and as calmly as I could called, 'Tris, you're first up.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent or any of the characters.**

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**Shorter chapter this time. I'm thinking there will be a bit more fluff in the next few chapters, if you can hang on. **

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I wasn't known for my compassionate and caring nature, but it took all my willpower to ignore the sobs that racked Tris's traumatized form and focus on the screen in front of me. I needed to understand whether Tris was just very skilled at dealing with fear, or if there was something else in play – if there was any possibility of her being Divergent. I rarely prayed, but today I offered up a request to whatever deity was listening that she would prove I was mistaken.

The programme allowed me to see what she experienced, and the mounting distress evident in her wails behind me corresponded to the rising level of water in the tank. I shot a glance behind me; her back was arched, and she was struggling against the restraints, but the serum held her in the simulation as securely as the fasteners held her to the chair. More than anything I wanted to clasp her hand as I did yesterday, but if I really wanted to help her I needed to understand how she managed to get through the simulation so fast on her first attempt.

As the water level rose in the simulation I swear I actually saw the moment when she began to manipulate the programme. Genuine panic gave way to something much more rational – she inhaled deeply from the last remaining air in the tank, and began to pound on the tank wall again. Even when water filled her mouth there was no struggle and I realised that Tris's sobs had subsided behind me in the chair. She knew this wasn't real – that she wasn't actually in any danger. I couldn't think of any other explanation. I risked another glance; the terror on her face had been replaced by an expression of fierce concentration. The first crack appeared on the tank wall, and I knew it was almost over. I checked the clock as the water burst through the ruptured tank, carrying Tris with it. Two minutes forty-two. Incredible.

I could only stare as she came out of the simulation. My mind flicked through different scenarios, and none of them were risk-free. If – and I was already certain – she _was _Divergent, then her life would be forfeit the minute anyone else found out. If she's just _that _good, then she's at risk from the other initiates; Edward came abruptly to mind, and I felt my own anxiety spike - I couldn't handle it if they attacked her too. If she's not Divergent, but can somehow resist the simulation – and I don't even know if that's possible – then she wasn't learning anything in the training sessions. How would she cope when faced with fear in reality?

I don't know the answer to any of this right now, and that means I don't know how to help her. What I am certain of is that she is going to need help.

'What?' Her voice cuts through my scrambled thoughts. I don't know how long I've been gaping at her, but I need to make some quick decisions.

'How did you do that?' I ask, more sharply than I'd intended, but I was rattled. She just looks puzzled.

'Do what?'

'Break the glass.' She still looks confused. Of course, how would she know that the programme doesn't allow it to break? She has absolutely no clue about the infeasibility of what's just happened.

'I don't know.'

Did she really not know, or was she a skilled liar as well? After all, she didn't come from Candor so feigning ignorance wouldn't be beyond her– but I don't think that's it. She might not know that it's not normal to take control of the programme, but she definitely knows she did something. Her actions were deliberate – I was sure of it. I helped her out of the chair. She put her small hand in mine, and I realised that I was more shaken than she was. That only increased my alarm - she should have been a wreck; she certainly had been when she came in. Before I injected the serum her dread had been almost palpable. She was steadier now and that was definitely not right. I needed time to think. I grabbed her elbow and half steered, half dragged her out of the simulation room through the door we had exited yesterday. After just a few steps she pulled herself out of my grip.

'What?' she demands.

'You're Divergent.' I said it – just blurted it out - and I wondered what made me instinctively trust her. I hadn't felt any need to sound out whether it was safe for _me _to talk to her about this. Even as it occurred to me that I should be more cautious, I dismissed the thought. All my instincts told me she would never betray me, and I had just a moment to ask myself when I had become so sure. For an instant she looked startled at my pronouncement before leaning back against the wall as she controlled her expression.

'What's Divergent?' She's was acting casual, but I had seen the shock in her eyes. She had regained her composure fast, but not fast enough. That hadn't been confusion on her face. She'd clearly heard the word before, and if she was covering then she knew it was something she needed to hide. That much at least was good. Or bad. My thoughts couldn't process the information fast enough to tell me what to do here.

'Don't play stupid.' I spat out the words. I was less annoyed that she was playing dumb than that she thought I was _that _gullible. 'I suspected it last time, but this time it was obvious. You manipulated the simulation. You're Divergent. I'll delete the footage, but unless you want to end up _dead_ at the bottom of the chasm, you'll learn how to hide it in the simulations.'

Even as I'd said the words I could picture it in my mind – her body twisted and broken on the rocks – and the bile rose in my throat. I needed some space to think, needed some air.

'Now, if you'll excuse me.' I pulled away from her abruptly and headed back to the simulation room. I closed the door and leaned back breathing deeply. It was a long time since I'd come that close to losing control. I held my hands out in front of me and watched them until they stopped shaking. I needed to get my act together before proceeding with the other initiates. I checked the clock again. Still less than six minutes since Tris had entered through the other door – given the average time for initiates in the simulation, I had a good ten minutes before anyone would become suspicious. Not that I would need it.

I replayed Tris's footage again, and then viewed it a third time, committing every detail to memory. I had promised her I would delete it, but her Aptitude Test footage had been deleted too. If anyone checked would it just raise more suspicion if both were missing? It was a calculated risk. The footage from today's simulation was proof positive that she was Divergent. Without it, there might be suspicions, but there wouldn't be any proof. With it, if anyone checked, it would put her life at risk. And I was pretty sure that Eric wouldn't be able to resist checking up on my training methods. I made up my mind and closed the file without saving it. Hopefully it would keep her away from scrutiny, but in colluding with a cover-up I'd linked my fate with hers. Unsurprisingly, that thought gave rise to some anxiety. What was surprising, was that I couldn't stop myself from smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent or any of the characters.**

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**Thanks for the supportive messages - you've no idea how much it encourages me. This one's a bit fluffier, as requested. Happier to explore even more fluff if anyone wants it!**

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I knew for certain now that Tris was Divergent, and I could think about nothing – no-one - else. After a long day processing initiates through their various fear simulations (which were the usual assortment of harrowing, humorous and just plain weird) I'd spent the last few evenings checking up on Tris's movements. We hadn't had a conversation since I'd confronted her. She had gone straight from me to the tattoo parlour. As far as I could tell she didn't have any new ink, but that wasn't conclusive. Every time I'd seen her since she was wearing jeans and long sleeves that could have been concealing anything. She'd spent quite a bit of time their with Tori, who had tested her but failed to log the footage. Was Tori the one who had told her she was Divergent – warned her to hide it - or did Tris just gravitate to her as the only person she recognised in Dauntless? I didn't have enough information – certainly not enough to know if Tori was a potential ally. I was fully intent on making sure Tris's Divergence remained hidden, and also on protecting her from some of her fellow initiates. Tris had been logging some really good times and I couldn't imagine that was sitting any easier with Peter than Edward's success in Stage One. At least that's what I told myself as I spent hour after hour in the Control Room flicking from one camera feed to the next in order to track her movements through the Dauntless compound.

At first I hadn't realised I was doing it. I'd been careful to flick between footage of different initiates, so that if anyone asked I could reasonably say that I was checking up on all of my trainees. But something happened to me whenever she came into view; I was mesmerised. I thought back to my time in Abnegation; I remembered her parents, but try as I might I couldn't place Tris – Beatrice - Prior. She surely couldn't have changed beyond all recognition in just two years, but I was mystified as to how I could have missed her - she was so alive, so vibrant. Even dressed in Dauntless black she brought colour with her into any room. There was no way that Abnegation grey could have diminished her. Maybe it was me who had changed – with new eyes that saw more clearly now than they had done then.

I worked through my memories again but I had no recollection of her before the day of the Choosing Ceremony. She had jumped first, and I held her as I'd helped her down from the net. Amazement filled me again when I considered the mettle that was belied by her tiny, seemingly fragile form. It wasn't just physical courage – she gave me more back chat than the rest of the trainees put together, despite the fact that I clearly terrified her at times. A fierce pride welled up in me – which was ridiculous as I had no hand in her native courage, but I wondered when I had started feeling so proprietorial. Lately, when I was alone with my thoughts, my inner critic would grill me.

_Why do you care so much? You're leaving._

'I can't just walk away and leave her exposed. Not when I could do something about it.'

_But there will be others – you can't save all of them._

'Does that mean it's right not to try to save any of them?'

_So why her? What's so special about her? _

'She's there. She's the one right in front of me. Walking away would be a betrayal.'

_Betrayal of who? You barely know her. It's not like you owe her anything. _

'Betrayal of her, of me – the person I want to be, of all that Dauntless should be.'

But I knew that wasn't the whole story. Beyond whatever value I placed on my integrity, I knew I wouldn't feel so protective of Will, or Christina, or even Uriah – not even for Zeke's sake.

_Wow, you really have got it bad. _

I needed to get a grip. I brought up the default feed on the screen in front of me and stood up, careful to erase the new lines from the file log that would show what footage I'd been tracking. I wanted to go back to my apartment and just be alone with my thoughts – and fantasies, if I was honest. Actually, that was just the consolation prize – what I really wanted to do was to hold her, to slide my hands around her waist and pull her close to me while I traced the path of those birds with my lips, my tongue (and I had already wondered if there were others that dipped below her neckline). I imagined the goose-flesh rising on her skin as I kissed the soft skin of her neck. I wanted to feel her fingertips sketch the flames that flickered across my ribcage, while her body pressed against mine. But I couldn't do any of that – not yet. It would bring her under scrutiny that would have been unfortunate for anyone, but potentially deadly for a Divergent.

Instead I took the healthier option and caught up with Zeke for a couple of beers. I was going through the motions though, because he was a friend and I owed him some consideration, but also because I understood my own unwholesome tendency towards seclusion. Soon though I was back in my own apartment, and sank gratefully into my one comfortable chair. I closed my eyes and, as always, she was there in the quiet of my mind. My breath caught as I recalled how her eyes looked into mine. How could it be that just a glance could raise my heart-rate? I wasn't entirely inexperienced with girls, but I knew this was different. It mattered. It was killing me that she was out there, sharing stories, food and laughter with friends. Soon, I told myself. Soon I could spend time with her instead of just watching her like some kind of freak. Just get her safely through to the end of training, and then you can be with her.

_What if she hooks up with someone else before then? She's pretty close to Al – and Will. _

A pang of jealousy ripped through me. I genuinely loathed Al, but was still self-aware enough to know that my dislike of Will was directly proportional to his proximity to Tris.

'She's not interested in them,' I reassured myself.

_Doesn't mean she's interested in you._

My anxiety spiked as the thought worked around my mind. It didn't matter though; this wasn't _quid pro quo_. Whether she felt anything for me or not, no matter whether she ever gave me a second thought, I couldn't help the way I felt. I wasn't completely inexperienced with girls – I'd embraced Dauntless freedom pretty comprehensively in the last two years – but I knew that for the first time in my life I was in love.


End file.
